A Letter to the Body

Dear body,

I owe you an apology.

I have not always been kind to you. I have criticized you in mirrors. I have pushed you past your reasonable limits and then been frustrated when you signaled your distress. I have compared you — unfavorably, consistently — to bodies that are not yours and were never meant to be.

I have treated you as a problem to be managed rather than a home to be grateful for.

But you have carried me. Through grief and celebration and ordinary Tuesdays and the night I thought I couldn't get through. You have breathed without being asked to. You have healed from things I barely noticed. You have given me the ability to hold someone I love, to walk in the early morning, to taste the first cup of tea, to feel the sun.

You are not a mistake. You are not a disappointment. You are fearfully and wonderfully made — and that includes the parts I have spent years trying to change, the parts that carry the history of what I've lived through, the parts that are slower or less capable than I wanted.

I am learning to be grateful. For the ordinary miracle of you.

With long-overdue affection, The person inside you